A cocktail lover's guide to the semi-sybaritic life.Cocktail and Food Consultants Steve Schul and Paul Zablocki's journeysin mixology with old and new drinks, food to pair with them, places to imbibe, and the buzzingsgoing on
in their thirsty minds.

Recipes galore with ideas for Cocktail–Party Food Pairings.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Although we are the first to admit that we do not drink them very often, Cosmopolitans are here to stay. If you don’t know what a Cosmopolitan is, you are either under ten years old or you eschew all forms of media, in which case you wouldn’t be reading this now. (And if you are under ten, please stop reading this and go pour yourself a glass of organic, farmers-market milk.)

The Cosmopolitan, that pink-hued slightly sweet, slightly tart cocktail, started popping up in bars on the Coasts in the late 80s, gained momentum in the early 90s, and skyrocketed to cocktail hall of fame in the late 90s. Made superfamous by Carrie, Amanda, Charlotte, and Samantha (if you don’t know who they are, then you are lost), it became the drink in the early 00s, at least until the Mojito came along to usurp that title. As with all trendy things, like Merlot and leg warmers, the Cosmopolitan would peak, then become the butt of jokes. Those hangers on who don’t follow trends would have to take their Cosmopolitan tippling to the closet. But don’t hate on the Cosmopolitan. It’s actually a perfectly balanced drink, when made properly, and is light and refreshing—ideal for a late spring night on the terrace. It won’t get you stupid (unless you keep drinking them, of course).

Prompted by a recent night out with our friends Daniel and Matt during which Daniel ordered a Cosmopolitan and drank it with un-ironic gusto, we decided to reinvestigate the rise and fall and nascent comeback of the drink that defined an era. When researching trends, it’s important to understand the current zeitgeist, which right now seems to be channeling the 90s, so the Cosmo is the ideal drink to vet at the moment. (You know a cocktail has reached international status when its name has a shortening.) Who better than to know a thing or two about a Cosmopolitan than Dale DeGroff, one of the most celebrated bartenders of our age. We consulted his Craft of the Cocktail and read the recipe. We didn’t have the traditional citron lemony-flavored vodka that most recipes deem necessary; instead, we substituted Stoli Oranj (we used that for a signature-cocktail commission so we had a lot left) figuring orange-flavored vodka would be close enough. We always have some Cointreau on our shelves, which is traditional, well-balanced in terms of sweet and bitter, and preferred by DeGroff.* The other two key ingredients in the Cosmopolitan are cranberry and lime juices. We always have fresh limes on hand, but what about cranberry juice? This is a common enough juice, but which one should you get? Instead of sugar-added or high-fructose corn syrup–fueled cranberry juice, we always opt for those that are made “with no sugar added,” which is plenty sweet for this drink if you ask us.** We shook it all up and after sipping them from cocktail glasses decided we would bump up the lime juice and Cointreau to provide more sweet-and-sour flavors. This would stand up to any food we would decide to pair them with at a later date.

The funny thing about experiments, usually someone else has detected shifts in the zeitgeist and is performing the same experiment as well. Take the morning after our Cosmopolitan. We received an e-mail from Rachel Van Dolsen, with Nike Communications, imploring us to make one of these pink beauties. After all, Dale DeGroff made these in the early 90s for Madonna and her entourage at the Rainbow Room. Well, how coincidental was that? But reading her e-mail further, we noticed that Dale’s recipe for the Cosmopolitan differed from the one we imbibed the night before. A quick e-mail to Rachel and a just-as-quick reply revealed that the recipe in the book was in fact Dale’s original recipe. But like all evolved and evolving artists, Dale changed his recipe, adjusting his ratios to perhaps satisfy his ever-evolving palate. Or maybe to adjust to current, more discerning tastes? Perhaps he felt this shift in the air and needed to appease the crowds who were growing weary of Cosmos night after night.

So, what turned people off of the Cosmo? Perhaps it was the ubiquity. Carrie Bradshaw (the Carrie from the first paragraph) in Sex and the City (the movie) stopped drinking them “because everyone else started,” suggesting that once New Yorkers witness the viral spread of their trends, they seek something else to bewitch them. Another reason may be its association with the female sex. After all, Carrie and her playmates ordered them for six seasons on Sex and the City, but I can’t remember any straight man ordering one on that show. This can definitely turn off a lot of guys who aren’t comfortable with their own sexuality or secure in their masculinity. So you can see why ordering a pink drink would certainly send these gentlemen into fits of self-doubt, as if Delilah came along and snipped the locks from Samson’s head, or Superman encountered some Kryptonite while trying to pick up a coworker from the Daily Planet on an after-work happy hour. But New York is now populated by guys and gals who are redefining society, in which gender and sexuality are more fluid, less reliant on labels. Pink is just a color instead of a marker.

The history of the Cosmopolitan is legendary, shrouded in controversy regarding its provenance. Is it possible that bartenders across the country in such disparate locations as Provincetown, Minneapolis, San Francisco, and South Beach created the progenitor Cosmo in vacuums, independently of one another? If we scour the Internet and read cocktail-history books, we discover that men and women behind the stick began experimenting with 1986’s new crop of citrus-flavored vodka, creating drinks that immediately piqued the palates of bar crawlers across this land. It was bound to happen. Just imagine being a bartender and all anyone asks you for is a vodka tonic or a shot that taste like Mom’s apple pie and is sickeningly sweet. As far as we’re concerned a shot’s good for one thing: getting you drunk. So if you’re a creative person and your creativity is only coming out in the form of one-gulp shots with inappropriate names, you might satisfy your yen for mixology by shaking up a new cocktail with those flavored vodkas on hand.

Regardless of these seemingly independent mixologists, we like to think that Toby Cecchini, while tending bar at Manhattan’s Odeon in the late 80s, felt the tremors of the mixological zeitgeist and crystallized the drink into what we know today. To us, evolution seems to be the winning ticket in explaining the genesis of the Cosmo. As in life, evolution is a natural progression, and the Cosmopolitan survives to this day because it is in fact one of the fittest drinks around. It appeals to our innate need for balance: the lime juice is sour, the Cointreau sweet, the cranberry juice adds sweet and tart. It’s as if spring and the coming warmer months kiss your lips with each sip.

So regardless of your gender and sexuality, or how close you follow trends, come out and enjoy the sensations of the drink that defined a decade. The Cosmopolitan. We’re certain you’ll rediscover its positive attributes. And it goes with just about every little salty noshy nibbly you can imagine. Can that be a bad thing?

** No sugar added implies that the cranberry juice with be extremely tart, but this is not the case because most cranberry juices have other naturally sweet fruit juices added, such as pear, white grape, and apple, or a combination thereof.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Our hearts were beating fast as we arrived at the steps of the New York Public Library at 9:45PM, sweat already beading up on our foreheads. Was it the anticipation of knowing what lay ahead, nonstop cocktails of all hues and expressions flowing into our eager gullets followed by some inexhaustible supplies of hearty chow? Perhaps, but adding to our perspiring pates was the unseasonal humidity. God, it was just awful. Especially arriving at a gala wearing light wool suits. We would have to make the best of it and find a drink immediately.

And find a drink, we did. Plenty of them. In cocktail-party parlance, we were fashionably late for the the Manhattan Cocktail Classic. Or so we thought. As we entered through the grand doors, we were assaulted by a barrage of brass-band blowings and glowing faces all decked out in their Friday finests. It seemed as if attendees had been there for hours, already on the road to satiety.

GREETINGS FROM THE MANHATTAN COCKTAIL CLASSIC . . .WISH YOU WERE HERE!

There was Damon Dyer, bartender extraordinaire, effortlessly whipping up some smile-inducing creations at the main bar underneath the rollicking band. And Danny Ronen, the San Franciscan mixman, with new facial hair, handing out bottles of spiked Coca-Cola. Jason Littrell, NYC barman, gadded about, shaking hands and proffering his signature dazzling smile. And there was another Damon, Damon Boelte of Prime Meats, greeting us with a wave across the main floor, his lovely lady by his side. We also ran into imbibing friends Anthony and Regina, recently transplanted to Queens, who implored us to immediately head up to the third floor to get some of that good grub. (Hanna Lee, who’s PR firm was responsible for the festivities, also advised us to do the same, and “work your way down.”) We should have listened instead of detouring to the Bulleit Bourbon booth, because we were not allowed up to the third floor where it was rumored air conditioning and giant turkey legs abounded. “Too many people up there right now,” was all we heard. We were starving, and all that was available in the heat-stroked hallways were plates of cheese and nuts. When we finally made it up to the top, it was like Geraldo opening the hidden vault of Al Capone . . . nada. Heidi Merino, talking to Combier’s Scott Goldman, flagged us down, looking lovely and festive in a jazz-inspired dress. “There may still be some bread,” she suggested, but man cannot live on bread alone. We would have to grab something when we could no longer drink another cocktail. Or at least have one with an edible garnish.

One of our on-line friends, Stephenie Jerzy, who, with partner Samantha Harrigan, writes the Cocktail Culture blog, and who works as Public Relations Manager at NOVA Marketing, was there representing Pernod Ricard. She contacted us about meeting at the gala, and as we walked about from booth to booth, she texted us as we were at the Catdaddy booth chatting with our friend from Piedmont Distillers, Sarah LeRoy. Stephanie was on the second floor near the Belvedere Room. As we turned to go down the hall, we ran into Francine Cohen, New York’s answer to a Culinary Encyclopedia and the mother of Inside F&B, looking gorgeous. After chatting with her for a moment, and meeting a few of her cocktail friends, we walked farther down the hall and ran into Jaime Salas, at the Milagro tequila table. Always happy to see a smiling face, we talked about his new job as ambassador for Milagro and had a few tastes of the different expressions on offer. The reposado, muy delicioso. After thanking Jaime, we were confronted with the evening’s burning question: Would we be able to finally make Stephanie Jerzy’s acquaintance?

Missing each other in between texts and crowds of gleeful imbibers, we decided to work our way to the Ground Floor “Stork Club,” where a new band promised danceable grooves in cooler environs. We hit temperate pay dirt. Since we can’t resist a good band and a dance floor, we decided to shimmy and shake, as we checked the iPhone only to see that Stephanie was in the room as well, by the Tanqueray bar, in a “grey dress.”

The Band at the “Stork Club” (Stephanie Jerzy, where are you?); Steve and Paul.

Ladies & Gentleman, after three drinks on an empty stomach, searching for a lovely lady in a grey dress in a room filled with hundreds of happy-folk was more difficult than finding a bottle of Becherovka.

Although we never met Stephanie that night, we always have her texts. Until the next time we’re in Connecticut or you’re in NYC, Stephanie. Promise. So in the end, despite the humidity and the hunger, we had a ball, as did everyone else it seemed. Leaving the gala, we decided that the food cart waiting out front for our growling stomachs was a sign. Tender dark meat grilled to perfection between a folded pita. Dinner was served. After devouring the skewered snack, we hopped in a cab and headed back to Brooklyn, a quiet place that would keep us cozy until the next day of imbibing and seeing old friends.

One of the great joys of cocktail circuit get-togethers is running into old and new friends, those people who share your enthusiasm for the alchemy involved in stirring up a classic or shaking up something new and unexpected. We were looking forward to the next few days at the Astor Center, where the bulk of the lectures and seminars took place, and were happy to run into such notables as spirits writer Robert Simonson, and Phil Ward, who we met years ago when he was head man behind the stick at Death & Co. Now Phil has his own place, Mayahuel, a tequila bar and restaurant near Death & Co. that extols the virtues of this south-of-the-border specialty. Phil is a supreme alchemist. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing him whip up something out of the blue, you’ll understand why we dub him as such.

Moonshine in Manhattan

Moonshine is hot right now, as well it should be. It’s steeped in American Folklore, going all the way back to Colonial Times. Also known as White Dog, this clear, primarily corn distillate is currently popping up on bar menus across the country faster than the General Lee could outrun Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane. Sarah LeRoy invited us to hear legendary race car driver, and former teenage bootlegger, Junior Johnson wax nostalgically for the days of when he and his pappy kept folks happy during the glory years of outlaw hooch. Introduced by author of Chasing the White Dog: An Amateur Outlaw’s Adventures in Moonshine, Max Watman, and welcomed by Joe Michalek, former New York City dweller and head of Piedmont Distillers, Junior Johnson explained how his daddy’s moonshine biz was self-contained; all the rye and corn were grown on the farm, while the still kept it all cooking. He told the crowd he never was caught running white dog while behind the wheel, but finally got caught when he pulled in to home base only to have the feds waiting for him. Ultimately he was pardoned by none other than President Ronald Reagan who once received a baseball cap with a chicken logo on it from Mr. Johnson. Luckily for us, we get to taste the echoes of his daddy’s recipe in the Moonshine that bears his name.

We attended the lecture with our friend Erin Cox and her friend Brian Cleary, who, it turns out, had an ancestor who ran hooch across the Canadian border back in the day. Both of them, as well as the crowd of listeners, got to taste our cocktail, the Kitty Carlisle (drinks flow so freely at these lectures, you may not be able to finish all of them!), a drink we made last year for Piedmont Distillers at Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans for a lunch pairing with Bourbon House. Just as we all finished our last sips of this sweet and sour delight, made with Piedmont’s flavored Catdaddy Carolina Moonshine, we were served a highball called a Moonshine Mule that slaked everyone’s thirst while still providing a nice buzz to carry us through the end of Junior, Max, and Joe’s talk of the current state of legal and illegal moonshine and the development and bottling of their smooth white dog, Junior Johnson’s Midnight Moon.

All that talk of Moonshine led us to our experimental bar (aka, the kitchen in our apartment) to create some new Catdaddy cocktails for a contest sponsored by Piedmont Distillers. We came up with two, both simple, and both using absinthe. Here are the results.

Method
Shake in ice for 15 seconds. Strain into a coupe or cocktail glass.

Catdaddy is now available in New York City! If your local watering hole or liquor store doesn’t yet have it, tell them Empire distributes it. They should have no problem stocking their shelves with it so you can make these and other delicious cocktails (see “Catdaddy” in the side bar to the right).

If there exists a master of ceremonies of the Cocktail Kingdom, Gary Regan would fit that moniker nicely. Born in England, and currently living outside the city, Upstate, he brings to every event an aura of color. Bright and saucy rainbow colors as he peppers his speech with profane pronouncements. He did not fail to both entertain us and instruct us in his lecture titled “What Does It Take To Win a Cocktail Competition.” We’ve never won a cocktail competition, but we have come in third for one, and were a runner up in the very competition Gary was about to dissect. He would begin by limning the Most Important Questions to ask yourself before entering a cocktail competition.

Gary Regan shows us “What It Takes To Win a Cocktail Competition.”

1) Who is the sponsor and what do they want, i.e., what are the contest’s criteria?

Gaz Regan’s Big Cocktail Competition asked its entrants to use at least one Heaven Hill Distilleries spirit in the making of their cocktails: Rittenhouse Rye, Dubonnet aperitif, Lunazul Tequila, PAMA Pomegranate Liqueur, or Bernheim Wheat Whiskey. After that, the most important criterion mandated that the recipe be simple, not filled with esoteric ingredients and endless instructions on how to prepare. Gary made a point to tell the crowd gathered that although a cocktail may be delicious, if it wasn’t easy to assemble, then out it went. To illustrate his point he showed us some recipes who’s instructions bordered on more complex than an organic chemistry lab assignment. This would not do and he lamented, “I wish I had the time back it took me just to read the instructions.” Although we all laughed at his remark, we realized how much it rang true. If your drink can’t follow the rules of a contest, then perhaps you shouldn’t enter it.

Gary also pointed out that if the contest asks you to make a drink with a particular ingredient, do not mask this ingredient. It may seem obvious, but many of the entrants’ recipes did just this.

2) Who is judging the competition, i.e., what do the judges like?

Well, if you have any inkling as to what the judges are looking for, and in this case the sole judge was Gary, then you have a leg up. If you know Gary, and he was quick to point this out, he loves boozy cocktails. And it was no coincidence that most of the winners (and runners up for that matter) fell into this category.

Another thing Gary likes is a good story, and he asked us to tell him how we arrived at the cocktail. “This is what the bartender should be good at: telling stories,” and most notabley A. J. Rathbun of Seattle, winner in the Lunazul Division, did just that. By telling a story, you instantly create a feeling of sharing and community that welcomes in the imbiber.

Two of the winners, Phil Ward (we are big big fans of his winning drink), and Ted Kilgore of Taste by Niche in St. Louis, were on hand to collect their prize: a mandala-like original collage crafted by Gary, a perfect nod to bartenders’ stories.

Philip Ward accepts his mandala from Gary Regan.

Here are the winners.

Cat’s Meow

{ Dubonnet Division }(adapted from a recipe by Ted Kilgore, Taste by Niche, St. Louis)

Method
Shake over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Shape the orange twist into a heart, and float it on the cocktail.

* A flamed orange zest takes a little practice. Using a vegetable peeler, cut a wide swath of peel from an orange. Light a match, and squeeze the peel between your thumb and finger through the flame over the drink. The oils in the peel being expressed will make the flame sizzle and pop, leaving a redolent and tasty residue floating atop the cocktail.

** Some drinks combined ingredients from different divisions. One in particular, the Friskey Eve, used four! Very clever.

A cocktail sippers paradise: Gary Regan shares with us the insider tips to win a cocktail competition.

All of the drinks were excellent, surprising even, and after five of them, the remnants of our tastings sat on our table in an array of cocktail colors that define our age, burnished reds and glowing ambers. A sight to behold. Congratulations to all the winners, and thank you, Gary. We couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a late Monday afternoon, or any time of the day, for that matter. Bottoms up!

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Tomorrow evening marks the start of The Manhattan Cocktail Classic, billed as “New York City’s first ever multi-day event celebrating the history, contemporary culture, and artful craft of the cocktail.” If the fall preview was any indication of what’s to come, be prepared for five days of big fun. You may even learn a thing or two.

According to the Web site, The Manhattan Cocktail Classic is

[p]art festival, part fête, part conference, part cocktail party, [and] brings together the unparalleled talents and opportunities of the bars, bartenders, and restaurants of our great city for five days of activities, both educational and celebratory in nature, championing the common ideals of authenticity, equality, sustainability, service, and pleasure. (There will be some drinking involved, too.)

The event kicks off with the sold-out gala at the New York Public Library. We were privileged to attend this event last fall and were completely wowed by the sheer amount of cocktails being shaken and stirred by the city’s most skilled and creative bar chefs, and lavish arrays of food festooning the hallways of one of the city’s most resplendent examples of Beaux-Arts Design. Gary Regan, famed cocktail guru and author of some of the best books written on imbibing, will be on hand later to congratulate the winners of his gaz regan’s Big Cocktail Competition. Paul found out he was a Runner Up with his cocktail Love Potion #44, a strong brew of Rittenhouse rye, Carpano Antica vermouth, and Strega (Italian for witch), that chartreuse-colored Italian liqueur that can light up any drink with its potent blend of herbs and spices. The drinks gets its moniker from his parents’ anniversary a few years ago, both of them being fans of the classic Manhattan Cocktail.

What follows is a host of seminars at The Astor Center and bars around the city. Tickets generally run at $50, but you can be sure that there will be plenty to drink and try some new spirits at these events. One of the events, “Chasing the White Dog in Manhattan: The History of Moonshine with the Legendary Junior Johnson and the Craft Distilling of Today” will feature our Kitty Carlisle Cocktail, a sweet and sour mix of equal parts Catdaddy Carolina Moonshine, bourbon, lemon juice, and creme de cacao.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

If you haven’t heard yet, the Mint Julep and the Kentucky Derby are inextricably linked. Well, since 1875, anyway. That’s when their marriage at Churchill Downs began, and since that year, the Mint Julep’s popularity (and one can go so far as to say celebrity) has no doubt benefited from its close association with the fastest two minutes in sports. Our close association with the Mint Julep began seven years ago when the two of us would sip them on a warm spring night on the terrace overlooking Brooklyn and Manhattan. One of our first terrace cocktail parties consisted of four friends and a dozen Mint Juleps among us. Needless to say the party ended when everyone’s speech was compromised. Lesson learned: one is enough. Although much of our view of Brooklyn has been obscured by overdevelopment (some of our view of Manhattan is threatened as well), our love of the Mint Julep will never fade. It’s one of our top five cocktails, and its slightly sweet, minty bourbon zing will keep us sipping until our last gallop around the track.

You can see us make a Mint Julep and lamb meatballs with tzatziki, and can read more about our encounters with them, by clicking here. You’ll be transported to the Buzzed section of our Web site.